nanowrimo_lj | No writing yesterday (Reply)

I'd planned to, but I didn't, and ended up using one of my remaining three 'free days' for it. Damn you, Morrowind!

Because of this, I must now write earlier and get it out of the way so I'll be working on it around 4pm today instead of eight. See, I figured out that if I write 2,500 words a day instead of the 1,700 I can still make it for the contest.

I did get slightly bogged down, but it was because I wrote a passage I didn't particularly care for. It didn't feel right. When I go back to work on it today, I'll see if it still feels wrong or if it needs a rewrite or removed all together.

Anyway, here's what I've managed to produce since my last posting--not work safe, again:

After a most enjoyable shower, Caitlin dried off with a velvety soft towel before smoothing on her favorite body lotion. She sniffed appreciatively at the lovely wildflower scent, paying special attention to her breasts and legs.
Finished, she threw on the silk robe that matched her pajamas before going to the walk in closet. She often joked that those who built this apartment had it backwards: they should make the closet the room and room into a closet. As it was, the closet was almost as large as her living area! Poorly designed or not, she loved it.
After a few minutes of rummaging around, Cait settled on wearing a blue Old Navy ™ t-shirt and her favorite, well-worn jeans. Nothing she was doing today required her to be dressed up. After she dressed, she did her makeup. While she didn’t spend a lot on clothes—she was just as happy shopping at a discount store or an outlet mall as she was Macy’s—Cait often dropped a bundle on makeup brands like MAC and Benefit. It wasn’t that she was snobbish; those brands simply worked better with her coloring and complexion and she was willing to pay extra for them.
She gave herself a once over in the mirror and pleased with what she saw, she picked up her well-worn backpack and headed out for the day.

Caitlin took care of her typical weekend errands: post office, some non-perishable groceries from the local healthy grocery store, dry cleaning, and so on. Once this was finished, she found she was hungry and ready for a late breakfast. She often didn’t feel like eating first thing in the morning.
“Might as well eat at the coffee shop,” she told herself, pulling into a parking space. “I’m surprised I made it this long without coffee!” Normally, she did have coffee in the morning, but this morning, well…she had been distracted.
“And it was fun, too,” she thought with a secret grin. Masturbating had become a once a week chore to her over the past two years. Once she had taken pleasure in her own flesh, but until this morning playing with herself had been, to her, just a poor substitute for the real thing. This morning, she had finally broken out of that.
Not long ago she had complained bitterly to Ronda about her lack of a sex life. Her friend, trying to be helpful, had pointed out any number of sex toys, which were available to take care of her needs very nicely.
“I know what you’re saying,” Cait had told her friend, “but let’s face it. A dildo can only do so much. It can’t hold you or kiss you. It can’t say ‘I love you’. It can’t tie you to a chair and make you beg to be fucked.’
“It also can’t break your heart,” Ronda had pointed out.
Cait had been annoyed, but in the end she knew Ronda was right, and so she had bought her toy online. She hadn’t cared to go to a store; despite Ronda telling her that not all adult toy stores were sleazy. Cait could be a very private person, and the idea of even a clerk she would likely never see again knowing her business was a little daunting to her.
‘I’ll tell her about my dream later,’ she thought, getting in line to order. Even on weekends, it seemed like half the world came here. ‘But not all the details. Those are mine to keep.’
Finally, it was her turn to order. She gave her order—a large mocha latte, sugar free, and chocolate croissant—to the bored looking young man behind the counter. A few minutes later, breakfast in hand, she selected a small table near the window.
Caitlin opened her backpack and pulled out her black leather bound journal and a pen. Both had been a Christmas gift from Dan the year before, and damned if she wasn’t going to put them to proper use! She could easily afford a laptop, but when she chose to do her writing in a coffee shop or in the park, she preferred the feel of pen on paper. ‘If it’s good enough for J.K. Rowling,’ she thought with a small smile, ‘it’s good enough for Caitlin Clark.’
Instead of describing the desperate situation Shard Nightkin had found himself embroiled in, Caitlin found herself thinking instead of her wickedly delicious dream. It had felt so real! She’d had erotic dreams before, of course, with varying degrees of intensity, but nothing like this. She had always dreamt in color, but this dream had had a level of detail that both amazed and frightened her a little. Often in dreams, one’s sense of touch was blunted, but Caitlin could vividly recall Shard’s silky hair and smooth skin, his warm breath on her flesh, the velvety warmth of his cock buried deep inside her. She had never really tasted anything in a dream before, yet she had tasted his kisses, the slightly salty taste of his balls and precum.
And unlike most dreams, nothing weird had occurred: it didn’t shift suddenly to find herself naked on the San Diego Trolley during morning rush hour, driving a car without brakes, or dancing the Macarena with Homer Simpson. It had stayed true and consistent through to the end, a rarity for most people unless they could do lucid dreaming.
Caitlin’s pen flew across the journal pages as she detailed last night’s erotic adventure. Just thinking about it was getting her horny again; she shifted restlessly in her seat. She couldn’t exactly do anything about it in public and besides, it would feel even better if she waited and let it build again.
“If I just get it out of my system,” she said to herself, “it will stop plaguing me and I can go back to my real writing. “ She put her pen down to take a bite of croissant and a sip of coffee before it got cold.
She picked up her pen to write again, and that was when she heard the voice.
Good morning, M’Lady. I trust that you slept well.

Chapter Three

Caitlin jumped, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a squeak. Her knee bumped the table, causing the latte to slosh dangerously high in its cup. One or two of the other patrons looked over, more curious than concerned.
Her heart still racing, she flashed them a faltering smile. “Nothing to see here,” she muttered. “Just a bad case of hiccups.” To make her statement more realistic, she pretended to hiccup with another squeaking sound. Satisfied that she was neither having a heart attack nor losing her mind, they turned back to their newspapers and coffee.
Caitlin looked around, eyes darting from place to place. The speaker had been close enough to speak directly into her ear, yet she saw no one nearby who could have done so. ‘My imagination, obviously. Stress, and the dream I had last night. There is no way in hell that Shard Nightkin just spoke to me.’
Still, she’d heard his husky, musical voice in her mind’s ear as clearly as if he had been seated next to her. All the same, Caitlin shrugged. The human mind was complex, and while occasionally it was known to create ‘echoes’ within itself of a voice or sight or smell, imaginary characters simply did not speak to their creators. To consider the idea was to consider the possibility of insanity.
I assure you that you are not insane, Caitlin. I am every bit as real as you are.
“That’s not—“ she caught herself speaking aloud and bit her lips closed. ‘That’s not possible. And this is insane. I refuse to speak to someone who doesn’t exist. To do so is madness.’
Do as you will. I will not take my leave until you speak with me, M’Lady.
Caitlin sipped her latte with a calm that she didn’t really feel. ‘It’s the past two years, catching up with me,’ she decided. ‘Being lonely and horny has finally driven me nuts. I’m going to wind up downtown sleeping in Balboa Park on a bench, yelling at passerby about flying saucers and drinking Mad Dog.’
I assure you that you are not insane, M’Lady. Though it amazes me that your mind is sound, given what little of your world I have glimpsed thus far. Before Caitlin could shut it out, images of everyday life in 21st Century North America flooded her mind: its wonders and horrors, the beauty and evil. It flashed by so quickly that she couldn’t see it all, yet she got a sense of everything and anything.
Cait took a deep breath and another drink of latte. Her hands trembled lightly as she set the cup back on the table.
‘How do I know that this is real?’ she thought, picking up her croissant. While it was logical to refuse to accept what was going on at face value, to dismiss the possibility that this was real without being open was not.
How do you know that it isn’t? When Cait sighed irritably, the voice continued, saying, Your arguments to the contrary in the face of what is obviously happening carries skepticism to a degree exceeded only by the Scholars of Alt’Rar. I ask only that you open yourself to possibility.
‘Fair enough,’ Caitlin answered in her mind. ‘All right. For a little while.” She wrapped her croissant in a napkin before stuffing it and her notebook into her open backpack. She stood up, stretched, and slung on her backpack before pushing in her chair.
Where are you going?
A small smile quirked at Caitlin’s lips. ‘We are going to the little park down the street from here. I can hardly talk to you with people around, because whether or not I’m crazy, they’ll think that I am.’ To herself she thought ‘I can hardly believe I’m doing this. Curiosity killed the cat, I suppose.’ She picked up her latte and walked out of the coffee shop.

Because it was a beautiful day and the park so close by, Cait left her car where she’d parked it and walked. Shard remained silent, though she felt his presence more strongly than before. She’d never believed in so-called psychic experiences, but neither did she discount them completely. ‘I suppose it’s easier to believe in this sort of thing happening to someone else,’ she explained to Shard. ‘When it happens to you, the natural assumption is that it can’t be real, that you’re losing your mind.’
Your world is weak in magic, is it not?
Caitlin shrugged. Quickly glancing about to see if anyone else was about, she sent, ‘I suppose it is. Many people believe that at one time, magic was very strong her. But people ceased to believe in it, either because others made it dangerous for them to do so, or perhaps because advances in science attracted more attention than the old ways.’ She paused to scrape some gum off her shoe, acutely aware of him ‘watching’ her the whole time. ‘Why? Are you using some form of magic to talk to me? And since we’re on the subject, if you’re real, then how did I end up writing about you?’
Shard chuckled in her mind. It was a lovely sound, just as she’d always imagined it would be. To answer your first question, M’Lady, the answer is yes. As you have written of me, then you are aware that I have inherited some moderate talent in wizardry from my mother. As we speak, I am sitting in my study, making good use of the scrying crystal she left to me. You know the one, of course. When Cait nodded, he continued. The spell required to reach you is a powerful one, and very draining. When it ends, I must rest, and it may be days before you hear from me again.
To answer your second question, I have tried for years to reach you through the wall between our worlds. My efforts proved most frustrating, but the, one day, you had a dream. Do you recall the one?
Caitlin sat down on a small bench. It had a lovely view of the duck pond, and a little family of fat mallards paddled about in it happily. ‘Yes, I remember. It served as the basis for my first short story. I called it ‘The Dream Merchant of Al Kabir.’’ The story had been about a young warrior looking for the woman of his dreams, the one whom he was destined to marry. He had gone to the Dream Merchant in hopes of seeing, in his dreams, where his intended bride awaited him. After a series of adventures in the dream world, he rescued his beloved and they were wed.
Yes. But do you recall your dream? How I found you, and you wished to come into my world, but could not? I am now offering you the chance to do so, Caitlin Clark.
Caitlin nearly dropped her latte. ‘What? How? I—oh, for god’s sake! I’m acting like this is real!’ She took a deep breath, willing her heart and mind to regard the situation more sensibly. His words, however outrageous, carried a small kernel of truth, of possibility.
Finally, she said, ‘All right. I’m willing to continue entertaining the idea that this could all be real. Call it scientific curiosity. Please go on.’
As I was saying, you had your dream, and you had others. You glimpsed but bits and pieces of my world, and of me. Through dreams was the only way I could reach you, Caitlin.
Eventually, it came to pass that I could reach the deepest parts of your mind while you were awake. I spoke to you there, deep inside your mind, but of course such things are limited. Yet my words and deeds lingered, emerging in your stories of me, and my world.
Caitlin bit hard at her lip. She wasn’t so sure she liked the idea of what, until now, had been all her own hard work being ghostwritten by her own character! Also, the fact that he had been inside her mind, had spoken to her, felt almost like a mental violation. Her fists clenched, nails biting into her soft palms. ‘You saw inside my mind? You read my mind? That’s a major violation of my privacy, buddy. And I don’t give a fuck who you are: you don’t do that to anyone.’
Be easy, M’Lady. Whilst I did indeed speak to you inside your mind and through dreams, I could see or know naught but which you told me. It was as if (and here, he sent her a mental image of a great, iron tower, encircled by a deep moat in which dangerous creatures swam to protect the secrets within.). While I will admit to curiosity, I far prefer getting to know someone through what they choose to reveal to me over time.
Cait relaxed almost immediately. For some reason, real or not, she felt she could trust him. ‘Though if he starts telling me that there’s secret codes in Glamour Magazine or that cavemen from Planet X are invading Earth, then I’ll just have to stop listening to him!’ She smiled in spite of herself.
Something amuses you, M’Lady?
‘It’s a long story. Just know that I believe you when you say you didn’t go poking your beak where it doesn’t belong.’
Shard pondered this a moment. Finally he said, My time to speak with you has come to an end. Now I must rest for a time. If you wish, think of questions you wish to ask me, and when next we meet, I will answer them. Farewell, M’Lady. His voice faded from her mind as a gentle, tingling warmth touched her hand.
‘If I didn’t know better,’ she thought bemusedly, ‘I’d swear that he just kissed my hand.’ She held her hand up to her eyes, regarding it with something like wonder.

Back at her apartment, Caitlin tried to call Ronda, only to be met with her friend’s voicemail. ‘If you’re getting this message,’ Ronda said in her best ‘Don’t bug me right now’ tones, ‘it’s because I’m hard at work on my latest masterpiece. So please leave me a message. Oh, and that does not mean calling me 87 times in a row hoping I’ll pick up. Unless of course you’re Jude Law!’ She chuckled at her own wit ‘I’ll get back to you as soon as I possibly can.’
A chirpy mechanical voice instructed Caitlin to leave a message at the sound of the beep. When it came, Cait took a deep breath. “Hi, um, Ronda. It’s me. Well, I guess you knew that already. Right. Well…this has been a really weird day for me. As in ‘Groundhog Day’ weird. I might be losing my mind. Call me when you have time, okay? But only if you have a good block of time: it’s a long story. Um, love you. Bye.”
Caitlin replaced the receiver, feeling more than a little lost. She knew that Ronda would get back to her as soon as she could, but in the meantime, she could chew over what had happened only in her mind.
She still wasn’t totally sure that Shard Nightkin existed anywhere outside of her mind, or the stories, for that matter. It had all certainly felt very real. So did dreams, and so, she had read, did psychosis.
On the other hand, she couldn’t be entirely sure that she was losing her mind, either. She had none of the other symptoms of mental illness. Other than an irrational fear of needles (the last time she’d gone in to give blood she’d fainted, and never mind getting a tattoo or a body piercing) and little quirks that almost everybody on the planet seemed to have, Cait was quite stable and well grounded.
“Yeah, I’m a regular rock of stability,” she told herself. Listened-for phones never rang, so she decided to get some writing done while she waited for Ronda’s return call.
She didn’t write about Shard Nightkin, but instead dug up a story that had been collecting dust in her desk drawer for almost two years. She’d had an idea about healers who could only heal by first injuring themselves. Healing a broken bone might require the healer to severely cut herself. An amputated limb would require the loss of two fingers. And returning the dead to life required the healer’s own demise. Except for death, the healer could then heal him or herself whole again through regeneration.
As interesting as it was, Caitlin had never been able to figure out a story to go with the idea. And so the story had languished in her desk for all this time. Looking it over, Caitlin realized that more background on the world she’d created was needed in order to make a compelling story rather than relaying an anecdotal incident.
Ronda called her not long after she’d started making some notes in the margins. “What’s up? It sounded pretty serious.”
“Well, it is, actually. And it’s pretty strange, too. Hope I didn’t interrupt you hard at work.” Cait flopped down on the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table.
“Should I come over, or do you want to discuss this on the phone? And don’t worry: I was hardly busy with work, unless you count rearranging your art supplies hard at work.”
“Hmm, I think we can talk about it on the phone.” Cait sighed and launched into her story. She told Ronda everything, starting with last night’s wickedly erotic and incredibly vivid dream. She went on to describe Shard ‘speaking’ to her in her mind at the coffee shop, and the conversation they’d had in the park.
Ronda listened quietly, asking questions here and there but otherwise not showing much reaction. Finally Cait said, “I’m sure you must think I’m nuts by now. I keep wondering about that myself.”
“Well…I’ve known you for a long time, Caitlin. You don’t normally trip off into Lala Land unless you’re writing a story.” She paused. Caitlin had known Ronda long enough to know that her friend was thinking of how to word the thoughts in her mind. “So. I believe what you’re telling me. I don’t know if I believe what Shard—“
“If that’s who he is,” Cait interrupted.
“Yeah, if that’s who he is. I don’t know if I believe what Shard has to say is real, but I do believe you when you tell me that you’re experiencing this.”
Caitlin sighed. “So the final question is, do you think that this is happening because I am losing my mind?”
“I thought you lost it long ago, Clark. Look who you hang out with!”
“Ronda, I’m being serious! It was so real…so real that it scares me that I could be crazy.” Her voice began to tremble as she said, “Do you know what’s worse? What’s even worse is…that I want…so much for it to be real!” Tears broke through her voice, distorting it.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Ronda soothed. “I can’t imagine any woman who wouldn’t dream of having someone like Shard Nightkin in her life and her bed. You aren’t crazy, Caitlin. Or at least, this isn’t a result of that.”
“You can’t see me, but I’m flipping you off over the phone.” Both women laughed.
“That’s the Cait I know. Look. I wouldn’t worry about whether or not you’re crazy. Why not just go along with it for the ride? See what happens?”
Caitlin turned the possibilities over in her mind. “Well, I suppose it can’t hurt, as long as I don’t lose sight of the fact that this may not be as real as it seems. He said he would be back in a few days. So I guess we’ll see.”
“Yeah. In a way, I envy you, Caitlin. Real or not, you have to admit that this is pretty exciting.”
“I suppose so. I’ll let you know what happens the next time he shows up. If I’m lucky, maybe I’ll have another sexy dream about him.”
“If I’m lucky, I’ll have a dream about him tonight!” Ronda joked.
“Go get your own,” Caitlin shot back, and laughed with Ronda.
They chatted on for a short while longer. Finally, Ronda said she had to get back to work, and Caitlin herself wanted to get back to her story. “I’ll call you in a day or two,” Ronda told her before they hung up. “Have a good night. And crazy or not, you know I love you.”
“Love you too.” Caitlin hung up.

Two days later, the story was still a no-go. Sometimes they were, despite the author’s best efforts. Cait knew that even Stephen King had cool but unworkable ideas languishing in his desk drawers, but it was still a disappointment. Still, she was loath to abandon it completely. She pulled a paper accordion file out of the desk, put the story inside, and stuffed the file back in the drawer.
Her mind wandered back to Shard Nightkin.
The idea that her stories and two novels about the dark elven bandit came from him directly both intrigued and annoyed her. Once, she had read a work of erotic fantasy involving an author whose character had come to life, a sort of paper Pygmalion. Here, there was the reverse: the ‘character’ was real and his touch on her mind had caused her to ‘create’ him.
“Listen to this,” she grumbled. “I’m thinking on this as if he really is real!”
In spite of her sensible nature and strong logic, Cait couldn’t help but feel that this was as real as roses, as real as the rain tapping on her windows. It disturbed her. It delighted her.
It excited her.
To her great surprise, Caitlin found her pussy getting slick and hot once again. She wanted Sharn here, right now, in the flesh. She wanted to feel his tongue slithering over her firm little clit before slithering inside her, his fingers teasing her ass. She wanted to be on her knees in front of him, as in her dream, and this time she wanted to suck him dry before using her hands and mouth to get him rock hard all over again. Moaning with need, Caitlin thrust her hand under her skirt. Her panties were wet through; she gasped as her fingers probed gently at the flesh beneath before sliding inside.
“Ahh…oh, yes…” In her mind, Shard tormented her pussy with lips and tongue and fingers. His tongue flicked lightly at her swollen clit, then slithered lower to dart inside her. Caitlin followed her fantasy with two fingers, sliding them over her wet flesh before thrusting them in.
Am I interrupting something, M’Lady?
“Oh, shit!” Caitlin hastily pulled out her fingers, blushing to her toes when he chuckled. “I wasn’t expecting you…I mean, well…” she was nearly purple now.
No need to be embarrassed, Caitlin. We all have…desires. I am flattered that the desire is mutual.
“You—you desire me? I’m--” She gasped as her pussy twitched with unfulfilled need. “—very flattered,” she finished. ‘And thrilled beyond belief.’
Perhaps we could work this to our mutual satisfaction, Shard suggested. I want to watch you play with yourself, Caitlin. Would that I could be there to play with you more directly. I want so much to bury my face between your thighs and lick you until you beg me to stop.
“Shard-“ Caitlin gasped, feeling her lust rise again. “I—I’m not sure—I can do this…”
I’m sure you can. And when you beg me to stop teasing you, I’ll tell you to get on your hands and knees..
Caitlin moaned softly, her hand moving down once more to the silken triangle between her lush thighs once more. She pushed her fingers inside.
Not yet. I set the pace here, Caitlin. I want you to slowly, gently, stroke your clit. Cait whimpered, but did as he asked of her. Amazingly, she could almost feel the touch of his cock probing her wetness from behind. The feeling made her whimper again, hips squirming against her hand.
Yes, that’s it. Gods, you’re so beautiful, Caitlin. So very beautiful and lush and pink. I continue stroking your clit with my fingers, every now and then my fingers tease at your hot little hole.
Caitlin could almost feel his scarlet eyes watching her every move as she moaned and writhed on the living room couch, two fingers of one hand buried deep inside her dripping flesh, two fingers of the other hand stroking her clit. She was close now, oh so close, her hips thrusting ad her cries of pleasure nearly drowning out Shard’s voice as he described their coupling.
I thrust harder and deeper…you’re on the very edge of ecstasy, clawing at the silken sheets on the bed, crying my name…
By now, Caitlin was nearly insane with pleasure, her thighs and the couch soaked with her lust. She was close, oh so close.
Just as you’re about to go over the edge, I stop and pull out of you.
Caitlin bit back a frustrated shriek as her fingers suddenly slipped, losing the rhythm. “Bastard! I was almost there!” She groaned raggedly; she needed to finish, she needed him.
Shard chuckled again. I know. Go to your bed, and we’ll finish.
Still cursing him, Cait got to her feet and walked on jellied legs to her bed. At Shard’s order, she stripped off all of her clothes and laid down on her back.
Not yet, he told her when she reached between her legs. What’s that object on the table?
Caitlin swallowed dryly, blushing when she saw what he referred to. “It’s a dildo. It’s for…what were doing now.”
Good. I want you to use it on yourself. I want to see you give yourself pleasure, even as I wish I could be there. Yes, that’s it. Slide it in. Oh yes, Caitlin.
Caitlin moaned as the dildo slid in to the hilt. At Shard’s wicked urgings, she thrust it in and out, faster and harder, as he continued to describe how he would fuck her with hard, deep stokes.
Yes, oh yes. That’s it, M’Lady, my love. Yes…give yourself to me. Come for me, Caitlin. Now. Ahh!
Shard’s cry of pleasure is what finally sent Caitlin over the edge. “Ohh, god! Shard, yes! Fuck me! Ohh!” Her words became a wail of pure, mindless pleasure as her orgasm shook her entire body once, then again, and a third time. Finally, she shuddered one last time, panting.
‘I’m not quite sure what just happened here,” Caitlin thought, still shuddering a little. She gently removed the dildo and set it aside. ‘But whatever it was, it sure wasn’t just a ‘do it yourself’ job.’
Indeed not, Shard told her. It wasn’t quite how I’d planned our next meeting, though.
“Really? What did you have in mind?” She sat up, wincing a little. “Think I pulled something.”
Originally, I had planned to sit and talk a while again, and to answer any questions you may have had. But when I arrived and found you pleasuring yourself, I couldn’t resist helping us both to a most enjoyable encounter.
“So, um, Shard? Did you, you know…did you enjoy it too?”
Oh, I certainly did. It has whetted my appetite for more, M’Lady. And not merely your luscious body.
Caitlin grinned. “You’re not so bad yourself. And we still have some time to talk, right?”
Of course. Oh, and I almost forgot. I have a most important question for you.
“Go right ahead.” Caitlin stood up on still unsteady legs. “I’m going to tidy up a bit.”
What would you say, Caitlin, if I told you that when you and I made love just now you surrendered all preconceived notions as to whether or not this is real?
Caitlin paused. “Well, I certainly must have.” She pondered. “Yes. It certainly felt real. And I can’t deny that whether or not you were really talking to me now was not something I was considering a few minutes ago. But still…things like that just don’t happen in this world anymore. If they ever did.” She moved towards the bathroom once more.
Excellent, M’Lady. So what would it take, deep down, for you to believe in my existence, without reservation?
Cait paused once more. “I’m really not sure. I guess you’d have to appear right in front of me, in my living room. That would definitely do it.” She closed the bathroom door behind her.
Shard had fallen silent, and stayed silent as Caitlin gently cleaned herself with a warm washcloth. This finished, she rearranged her clothing and washed her face. Drying her face, she glanced briefly in the mirror. She had to grin: ‘If orgasms could be bottled,’ she thought, ‘the cosmetic companies would be out of business!’ She put the towel back on the rack and left the bathroom.
“Greetings, M’Lady Caitlin.” Shard Nightkin stood in the middle of her living room, not far from her bed, wearing a smug grin and a blue, silken robe.

This is getting tricky. If someone reads something jarring or it doesn't feel right or ring true, let me know. There's something off and I can't put my finger on it.